


Deliciously Dangerous

by IdunAurora



Series: Diamonds are forever [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Security Guard! Viktor, Thief! Yuuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 15:22:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9767909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdunAurora/pseuds/IdunAurora
Summary: During a business trip to Japan, Viktor is given the task of keeping Yakov's latest purchase safe. With the Stammi Vicino-rings neatly tucked into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he's given the evening off so he will be well rested for the jewelry auction in Osaka the following day.Returning to his hotel room, he expected to take a bath and then sleep soundly until morning. He did certainly not expect to find the object of his sweetest dreams to be waiting for him, armed with a smirk and a glass of Martini.Or, cat burglar Yuuri keeps his promises...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M to be safe (nothing explicit).

“Do we have a deal, Mr. Feltsman?” the Japanese jewelry collector asked, his face stoic even though his eyes were sparkling in anticipation. Yakov regarded him for a long moment, then read the papers in front of him all over again carefully. He handed the papers to Viktor, silently telling him to read them one last time for him. Viktor complied, scrutinizing every last word and letter until he was certain there wouldn’t be any unpleasant surprises coming for them. He handed Yakov the papers back and nodded. Wordlessly, the old man pulled out a reservoir pen as expensive as the suit Viktor was wearing and signed the papers on all the blank lines with his name printed underneath.

“We have a deal.” He told the collector. “I will transact the expenses to you when I have the rings.”

“As agreed.” The man nodded, turning to the guard on his left hand side to tell him something in Japanese. The guard nodded and voiced the order further into his walkie-talkie. Moments later, the door to the room opened and a young woman entered, holding a small, velvet box in her hands. She carefully placed it on the desk separating Yakov, Viktor and Chris from the Japanese collector and his guards.

“Be my guest.” The collector told Yakov, gesturing to the box. The old man motioned for Viktor to open it and he obliged wordlessly, showing the contents to his employer.

The Stammi Vicino-rings glinted in the soft light from the floor lamps in the office, golden and polished, delicately decorated in the most delicate, beautifully polished rubies and diamonds. Yakov slipped on his leather gloves and pulled them out of the box, holding them out to Chris, who already sported a pair of leather gloves of his own as he accepted them. He pulled out a high-quality magnifying glass and inspected the rings carefully.

“These are the real Stammi Vicino-rings, Mr. Feltsman.” He confirmed, carefully placing them back in the velvet box Viktor was holding. Yakov nodded.

“ _Tell Elena to complete the transaction._ ” He told Viktor in Russian. He did as asked, sending Elena a text immediately. Seconds later, she responded to let them know she had confirmed the sum and transferred the money. They waited in silence.

Five minutes later, the jewelry collector’s secretary confirmed that they had received the correct amount of money. The Japanese man smiled, standing up at the same time Yakov did. They shook hands.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Feltsman.”

 

“I trust you to keep the purchase safe, Vitya.” Yakov told Viktor as they sat in the back of the black BMW on the way back to their accommodations.

“Yes, Mr. Feltsman.” He replied, his hand sneaking into the inner pocket of his suit jacket briefly to make sure the velvet box was still there. Yakov nodded.

“You’re off duty until morning.” He then stated gruffly. “You need to rest; I need you sharp tomorrow when we head to the auction in Osaka. Giacometti will be covering for you tonight.”

“And tomorrow?”

“We leave at seven.”

 

After a hearty dinner in the dining hall of Yakov’s suite, Viktor took the elevator a floor down to his own quarters. He was exhausted and still a little jet-lagged from all the traveling, and he really looked forward to a bath and the soft covers of his hotel bed. So when he headed into the room, he locked the door behind him and shedded his suit jacket to hang it by the door before turning on the lights.

He almost jumped out of his shoes in shock and surprise, clutching a hand over his chest, jaw dropped to the floor as his eyes landed on the familiar figure seated on a high stool by the bar counter.

“ _Tadaima_ , Mr. Nikiforov.”

Viktor swore he choked on his own breathing, his eyes about to pop out of the skull at the sight.

“H-how…?”

Glossy red lips puckered into a mocking pout.

“Is that how you greet me after all this time, _Vitya?_ ”

Viktor’s cheeks burned red hot. He had no idea where he had picked up on the nickname, but that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

It was unmistakeably Yuuri, the cat burglar who had all but wrapped Viktor around his little finger and ran off with the Eros and Agape diamonds, leaving the security guard hot and bothered tied to a chair in the vault in the basement of the Feltsman manor. Yuuri had promised that if Viktor kept his little secret, promised not to tell anyone that he had switched the diamonds for identical crystals, he would seek him out and reward him for it.

Viktor had kept his lips sealed, if only for the tiny possibility that the thief would actually keep his promise.

And now he was here. In Viktor’s hotel quarters in Tokyo. Sitting on a bar stool, black hair slicked back, dressed in fishnet stockings (Viktor gulped audibly), a pair of black stiletto heels, a sleeveless red dress with the skirt opening on one side from his thigh down, half-sleeved, black silk gloves covering his arms. Heat was already pooling like a geyser in Viktor’s abdomen, and the black velvet collar with silvery crystal decorations around Yuuri’s neck sure didn’t help. At all.

To top it all off, he was armed with a smirk and a glass of Martini.

“Shaken or stirred?” He asked silkily, motioning to the bottles, a second glass, and the olives placed on the counter. “How do you like yours, Vitya?”

The question shook Viktor out of his paralysis.

“How did you get in here?” He asked instead.

_Oh no, he’s pouting again, stop it, too distracting…_

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out.” Yuuri replied with a huff, sipping his drink and patting the stool next to him, an alluring smile on his lips as he batted his eyelashes. “Sit.”

It was a demand.

Viktor didn’t even notice he had complied before he suddenly found himself sitting on the stool, facing the cat burglar. Yuuri grinned deviously.

“Good boy, Vitya.” He praised, taking hold of Viktor’s tie to pull him closer, breath fanning hot against his ear. “Now, shaken or stirred?”

“Stirred.” Yuuri chuckled.

“You seem to be.” He teased, reaching for the gin and vermouth bottles to fulfill the request, leaving the vodka unopened on the counter. "Though I almost expected a Russian to go for the vodka. Oh well." He sighed theatrically.

“I’m disappointed, Vitya." Yuuri continued while he stirred the drink expertly. "You’ve been such a darling keeping our little secret, and yet you looked so surprised to see me tonight. Didn’t you think I would keep my word and reward you for your silence?” He plopped an olive into the glass. “I’m offended. And having said that, let me prove your drink isn’t drugged or poisoned.” He smirked, taking a good sip of Viktor’s drink, swallowing the liqour audibly to prove a point before handing the glass to Viktor. “ _Kanpai_.”

“ _Na starovye_.” Viktor mirrored the gesture and drank despite his better judgement. Yuuri let out a small giggle before taking a sip of his own drink.

A tingling feeling that had nothing to do with the alcohol was spreading from his chest all the way down to his toes and fingertips. It was probably common sense leaving his body, Viktor figured, since all of his rational thoughts seemed to fly out the window the second Yuuri was within his field of perception.

“So,” Yuuri said, resting his arm lazily on the counter, “what brings you to Tokyo, Mr. Nikiforov?” Viktor composed himself as well as he could.

“Leisure, of course.” He replied smoothly, willing himself to look only at Yuuri’s face when the cat burglar very consciously separated his legs for a moment to cross them the other way around instead, the slit in the dress revealing one sinfully thick thigh, skin just as smooth and fair as Viktor had dared dream of.

“Oh, I’m sure.” Yuuri played along, but not really, tilting his head with the deliberate intention of getting Viktor’s eyes to wander. It worked brilliantly, azure eyes following the line of his slender neck down to his well-defined collar bones and slim shoulders. “The jewelry auction in Osaka _surely_ has nothing to do with it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Viktor said, eyes lingering on the teasing, see-through fabric around Yuuri’s slender waist.

“Of course you don’t.” Yuuri said nonchalantly, lifting his leg to place a stiletto-clad foot on the side of the stool directly between Viktor’s legs. “You don’t appear to be… _thinking straight_ at the moment, Vitya.”

This time, Viktor did choke. On his drink. He didn't even get a chance to make a retort at the silly pun, because Yuuri’s dangerous-looking heel was pressing against his nether regions firmly, rubbing teasing circles over the fabric. Viktor managed to place the glass down, gripping the counter as he gasped in shock and arousal, a strong sense of déja vu washing over him as he reminisced their previous encounter.

Yuuri chuckled, clearly amused, tutting at him in mock disapproval.

“So eager.” He mused, sipping on his drink like he wasn’t doing anything at all while Viktor let out noises all too embarrassing from the simple actions directed to his crotch. “You might want some help with that soon enough.” He grinned, placing the cocktail glass down on the counter. “I did promise you a reward for being a good boy, after all.”

Yuuri’s foot left Viktor’s tented slacks, giving Viktor a moment to catch his breath. Yuuri easily slid down from the bar stool, took a firm grip around Viktor’s tie and coaxed him to stand up and follow him. He pushed the Russian down on the couch and placed a heel on Viktor’s chest in turn.

“No touching unless I say so, _koibito_.” Yuuri teased. He reached down to Viktor’s belt and removed his gun and walkie-talkie, tossing them carelessly onto an armchair. He then pulled a knife from somewhere beneath his skirt that Viktor couldn’t even locate, smirking as the silvery blade joined Viktor’s belongings. “Let’s not get distracted by such things, shall we?” He leaned in to essentially whisper against Viktor’s lips, yet not close enough to actually touch. “Relax.”

Well, how the hell was he supposed to do _that?_

Viktor could absolutely _not_ relax when Yuuri turned around sharply, casting him a sultry look through half-lidded eyes over his shoulder as he moved just out of reach from Viktor with swaying hips. He danced to music that Viktor somehow could hear clear as day even though the hotel room was undoubtedly silent, apart from his own unsteady breathing and Yuuri’s movements, a slight rustle of fabric.

Pulling off a pair of gloves had never been anything arousing in Viktor’s mind until Yuuri did it. He couldn’t help but hungrily trail his eyes along the smooth skin of his slender arms as the removal of the gloves revealed more and more before they finally came off past nimble fingers that would have looked natural playing the piano or the violin. Yuuri twirled his wrists tentatively, running them up and down in alluring flamenco twists.

_He’s dangerous._

_So deliciously, gorgeously dangerous._

Viktor had lost his ability to think and speak by the time Yuuri sat down in his lap, his back facing him as he wiggled his shoulders teasingly.

“Unzip me, will you?” he more demanded than asked, arching his back to draw Viktor’s attention to the barely visible zipper that went straight along the back of the dress. Viktor obliged, reaching up to pull it down a little more slowly than he would have liked, using whatever dignity he had left (which was next to none) to restrain himself from giving in to his urges and just rip the damned fabric to pieces to get it out of the way.

Soft skin stretched over taut muscle was revealed bit by bit as Viktor slid the zipper downwards and swallowed, reaching up with his other hand to loosen his tie a bit, because it was getting unbearably hot in his clothes. Well, in the room, really.

Zipper down, he was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek as Yuuri stood up to take the dress off, bending down as he pulled it over his hips.

_What have I done to deserve this kind of punishment?_

Viktor had no idea, but he knew Yuuri was not only wearing fishnet stockings, but also a pair of black, lace panties that left little to the imagination. He kicked the dress up into his hand effortlessly and tossed it aside with a flick of his wrist before turning around.

The smirk on his lips was laced with sin and many promises, all of which would send Viktor to hell.

He found he didn’t care much about the latter part. Not when Yuuri straddled him and snuck one arm around Viktor’s neck, the other gripping his tie and pulling him closer, chestnut eyes twinkling in mischief.

“Now, about that slight… trouble of yours,” Yuuri’s smirk widened as he tilted his head to place a burning kiss on Viktor’s lips, “leave it to me.”

It was official.

Viktor would die at Yuuri’s mercy tonight.

Or rather, at the mercy of Yuuri’s sinful mouth that seemed to be made of magic and wet dreams. Viktor really couldn’t remember ever having been reduced to a smoldering hot mess that could only blabber in Russian and chant Yuuri’s name like a mantra until the only things escaping his lips were pleasure-induced incoherent noises and drool.

He remembers asking Yuuri if he could return the favor(s), but Yuuri merely tucked him to bed, carding his fingers through Viktor’s silver strands as haze clouded his mind.

He barely heard Yuuri saying something about an auction. Something about Osaka.

“Inferno…” Viktor mumbled, mostly unconsciously. “...will I see you again?”

“If you behave.” Yuuri replied, kissing him softly. Viktor chased his lips, wanting more, _needing_ more, and Yuuri indulged him, taking his breath away with all too little effort. Too soon for Viktor’s liking, Yuuri’s warmth against his sore muscles and the cat burglar’s nimble fingers massaging his scalp sent him off into a dreamless sleep.

Had he been awake he would have caught the devilish grin on Yuuri’s face.

“Sweet dreams, Vitya.” He smirked, placing a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll see you sooner than you’ll see me…”

 

When Viktor’s alarm went off at five-thirty, he sleepily reached for his phone to hit the snooze button. Then, slowly, memories from the night before invaded his mind and he sat up swiftly, looking around through sleep-clouded eyes.

Yuuri was nowhere to be found. Viktor got up and stumbled through the hotel quarters, even checking the bathroom and the walk-in closet.

There was no trace of him.

In fact, there was no sign of Yuuri ever having set foot in the hotel room at all. No used cocktail glasses were left on the counter, the vodka and martini bottles were unopened, and even Viktor’s gun and walkie-talkie were neatly placed on the drawer beside his bed, where he probably would have left them had he gone to sleep alone the night before.

Viktor frowned.

It couldn’t have been a dream. There was no way he had imagined everything…

His heart stopped momentarily, eyes widening in shock and realization.

_…the Stammi Vicino-rings!_

Panicking fiercely, he ran to the suit jacket that was still hanging by the door, checking the pocket and locating the velvet box. He pulled it out and opened it.

The rings looked just as golden as yesterday, the rubies and diamonds shimmering just like they had done in the jewellery collector’s study. If they were fakes left behind by Yuuri, no one would be able to tell at first, second, or even at third glance.

Somewhat relieved, Viktor placed the rings back in the pocket of his suit jacket and went to take a shower. He was sure he would be covered in lipstick left by Yuuri’s sinful lips, but there wasn’t a trace of it anywhere on his body. Viktor felt his heart drop a little in disappointment.

_Maybe it had been a dream after all…_

_…or not._

The answer came when Viktor was about to leave and was going to leave a tip to the staff on the counter in the room as he usually did instead of pulling out his wallet in public.

Except he couldn’t leave a tip, because every last yen was gone.

Viktor pulled out the pink post-it-note left behind and failed to hold back a laugh. A familiar red kiss-mark was left on the note, and nothing else. It was the same lip-print that had covered Viktor’s face and upper body after his first encounter with the elusive, alluring cat burglar.

He shook his head in disbelief over his own complete and utterly unforgivable unprofessionality and placed the note back into his wallet, heaving a deep sigh.

The rings were, without a shadow of a doubt, as fake as the smiles the actress Lilia Baranovskaya reserved for the press.

 

Yuuri sauntered into the hideout with a satisfied smirk on his lips. Phichit looked up when the door opened and grinned widely.

“I gather everything went as planned.”

It wasn’t really a question.

Yuuri didn’t reply. Instead, he pulled out a small, black silk pouch and opened it, letting the contents fall into Phichit’s open palm. His partner-in-crime grinned as he examined the beautiful rings.

“And the cash?” He asked, winking.

“Sealed with a kiss.” Yuuri confirmed, dropping the stolen bills onto the table. “They’re on their way to Osaka. The old man is interested in the Inferno.” Phichit cocked an eyebrow.

“The Inferno, huh?” he pondered. “Let’s make him pay a dear sum for it. We’ll be off with both the money and the medallion before anyone knows what happened.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Yuuri agreed. “And then?” Phichit shrugged.

“Well, we have to start with these.” He motioned to the Stammi Vicino-rings in his hand. “Our buyer says he has the cash ready to go whenever we make it to Italy. Did you make more promises?” Yuuri smirked, sitting down on the edge of the table and crossing his legs, reaching down to take off the stilettos.

“Maybe.” He replied.

Yes he meant.

“All right, then.” Phichit grinned. “Italy first, but let’s keep an eye on old Feltsman and his security guard. Did you let him have his way yet?”

“Of course not.” Yuuri huffed, but grinned back. “But if he continues to behave, I might consider it.”

“Meaning you already have decided.”

Yuuri tilted his head innocently, examining the deep red polish on his fingernails.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”


End file.
